


Where The Crickets Go

by FlowerChiild



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Slow Romance, Steve/Reader - Father Daughter, large slices of life, not sexual tho, probably gonna be enderman/reader, reader is a child in the beginning, sorry - Freeform, very slow, you fuckin weirdos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 00:31:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerChiild/pseuds/FlowerChiild
Summary: You are the adoptive daughter of the famous Steve, who raises you to be just as great of an adventurer as he is. You make some friends, kill a few pigs, raid some temples. If only Enderman would learn to swim.





	1. Cocoa Beans Are Not For Consumption, Ever

**Author's Note:**

> So this is super experimental. Get ready for a super, slow-burning romance that probably won't even be romance for a good first portion of the story. Stick around, folks! I'll try to make it good, I promise!

"Looks like a case of bad Cocoa beans." 

[Y/N] lay writhing on a bed, moaning in pain while clutching her stomach. An iron bucket sat on the floor nearby, but not too close, because the smell of bile wasn't a very pleasing scent. Even with the windows open, the warm air of the village did little to de-scent the stale air in the church. Steve talked irritably to the priest, discussing methods of treatment. 

"Oh, for divine's sake, don't go to a witch. I'm sure the other villagers have a solution." The priest sniffed. They all knew of Steve's unspoken-truce with other humanoid mobs ("Attack me, and I'll attack you. Leave me alone and I'll do the same," was always his life motto). Villagers, however, all had a knack of showing judgement towards outsiders, and Steve was no exception. Especially since they heard of the infamous adventurer taking in a young rogue. 

"Cocoa beans are toxic," Steve shot [Y/N] a dirty look, seeing as he's told her this _thousands_ of times. He hoisted the little girl into a wagon, placed the bucket between her weak knees, and headed towards the entrance of the chapel. "We're better off with someone who knows how to work potions. Thanks for the diagnosis, though."

The priest watched them leave his tiny bedroom with crossed arms, looking at the adventurer's receding figure. "Outsiders," he scoffed, arranging books on his desk. "They never learn." 

 

/

 

"Here now," Steve said, dumping the contents of the bucket on a patch of grass and handing her a jar of water. He placed the bucket back in its nesting spot between her legs before resuming tugging the cart behind him, moving quickly as to escape the sun of the grass plains. Up ahead, he could see a forest biome, with trees that would surely provide shade for the little girl in the wagon. She was most likely heating up rapidly under the summer sun. Fevers were never a good thing. "How many times have I told you not to eat cocoa beans straight from the tree? Do you listen to me at all?"

"'M'sorry, Steve," [Y/N] whimpered from her spot in the wagon. "I was hungry, I forgot. Herobrine told me -"  
" _Herobrine_?" Steve turned to her quickly. She could see the red anger underneath his tanned skin. "Herobrine was with you and you didn't tell me?!"  
"You don' like him! You woulda' given me a lecture if I said somethin'," She pouted. "He only talked to me once, honest."  
"I don't like him because he's dangerous, [Y/N]." She watched his big hands, rough and calloused from age and labor, tug the handle of the wagon. "He'd get you hurt and wouldn't even think twice about it."

The rest of the trek was silent. [Y/N] relinquished the shade of the trees for the rest of the ride, thankful that they were also close to where she remembered the witch hut was. She didn't understand why the priest felt the need to voice his opposition against their visit to the witch, nor did she understand the stigma against "hostile" mobs as a whole. Sure, some of them didn't like humans, but never in her life had a witch hurt her. Last time, when Steve slashed his leg while mining, the witch let her play with the dried gourds. Her interactions with humanoids may have been limited, but they were all still generally civil. Steve once found a mysterious egg and raised it until it hatched. It turned out to be a Ghast, and it let her ride on its back once. That was when she was real small, though. 

"Tally ho'!" Steve shouted upon arrival. [Y/N] saw the straw ceiling of the hut through bleary vision, the loose ends dancing lazily in the late afternoon breeze. She was wheeled into the structure, happy for the cool insulation the mud walls provided from the summer heat, and was roughly examined by wrinkled, old hands of a hag. [Y/N] noted she had a big nose, with a shiny, red wart on the nostril. 

The witch didn't speak much. As far as she knew, witches rarely enjoyed wasting their breath for anything else other than rituals and spells. According to the stories Steve would tell her over open fires on warm nights, witches didn't have names, either. By late that evening, [Y/N] sat in a cold tub of water to break her fever, while the witch rubbed circles of some sort of mud-clay mixture against her naked skin. 

"Move the toxin," The witch had whispered, before allowing Steve to fill the silence with some whistling while he tended to her fire. 

[Y/N] was to spend most of the time in the water. A wad of wool had been placed at the back of her neck to allow her to rest her head. The contrast of the cool water and the fire nearby lulled her to a light sleep, just conscious enough to overhear Steve and the witch conversing. The witch responded in short phrases, of course, and [Y/N]'s curious ears couldn't help but tune in as she dozed. 

"Heard Ender comin' closer," The old hag spoke. "Some out of the End."  
"Nonsense." Steve uttered. "The village people may be in trouble, sure, but I've fought their tyrannical dragon and saved the egg. We'll be fine."  
"Divided opinions. Not safe for little girls."  
There was a pregnant pause then. [Y/N] listened to the crackle of the fire and the rustle of dried herbs in the wind. She had seen Endermen before. Every time, it was at the camp she shared with Steve, and while she may have been inside the small cabin when they had been approached, she had seen Endermen communicate with Steve before. Nothing had ever happened during those rare occurrences.  
"She'll be fine with me. She always has been." Steve spoke finally. 

The rest of the night went on quietly. [Y/N] had managed to get a few hours of actual sleep, and the moments when she was awake, she would just watch Steve and the witch during their minimal interactions. When the sun rose over the trees, she was approached by the mob, who coaxed her to drink some sort of remedy, even though her stomach protested the entire time. Steve had fallen asleep in a little cot not too far from where she was. In about an hour or so, her body had begun to heal, and along with the return of her health came her hunger. She stood from the tub, dressed in some clean linens the witch had provided, and left the hut in search of food. 

Steve had given her a bow with some arrows a few months before, teaching her how to hunt small animals such as chickens and pigs. She saw a medium sized flock of assorted animals, so she climbed a tree before readying her bow in hopes of bringing back more than just pork. Maybe some wool, which she had plans of offering Steve in some form of an apology for causing so much trouble. 

She aimed the bow and let go of the taught string, allowing the arrow to whiz past her nose, straight into the side of a pig. It squealed in pain, falling on its side on the grass. The disturbance alerted the other animals, who promptly moved to a spot on the hillside further away. She jumped from her branch and ran over to her game, retrieving her arrow and using a small hunting knife to remove the parts that Steve taught her were salvageable. [Y/N] placed the meat in a knapsack before venturing onward. 

About an hour and a half later, she returned to the hut with two sacks of meat, wool, and eggs. "Steve!" She shouted excitedly, "Look! I got us food!"  
"Good job, Oak Log. Roast some of that pig over the fire." He patted her back before noticing the disturbed look on the witch's face. 

He was very well aware of his strange way of raising [Y/N]. He hadn't intended on taking the role of her guardian when he found her as an infant, crying and floating down the river in a shut basket. He was far from civilization when he found her, so he was left baffled as to where she came from and how she had been able to survive for so long. Steve, not really having much interaction with children, raised her like he would train an adventurer, teaching her how to skin cows and hunt for herself, start fires, kill spiders. Many of the other people he's met suggested leaving her with the women of the various villages he's been to. All in all, though, he was stubborn, and was determined to finish raising the girl like he had been doing for quite some time, and he was sure she wouldn't be very happy if he decided to dump her in the care of an orphanage, either. Watching her now, fully able to create a meal for herself from the bloody mess in her knapsack, made him feel proud, and he was sure she'd be better off with how he was raising her. 

They left the hut late that afternoon, the wagon behind them now filled with hunted game and additional items and potions the witch had given them. He had paid her well for her services; diamonds, wool, wheat, and various seeds had been enough to satisfy as payment. When the sun set behind the mountains and the crickets emerged for the night, they decided to camp at the top of a large hill. Steve raised a cabin from the surrounding trees and [Y/N] lit up the torches from the inside, hoping to keep the zombies at bay. 

She may have been a brave little girl, but zombies scared her more than anything. Even the skeleton men she saw deep in the caves were better than zombies. 

Silently, [Y/N] sat on the roof of their shelter, staring at the stars in the sky while Steve gathered some fresh water from a stream just south of the hill. She could still slightly see his blue shirt in the dark; he was a small, moving blob in the distance. The stars above her made funny shapes. Steve once said that up there somewhere, there was a big man wearing a belt, holding his sword. She used to think there was actually a giant in the sky, protecting the world from meteors and whatnot. Now, though, she liked to find the stars that made up his belt, and see if she could trace the entire picture with her finger. 

[Y/N] heard the faint hissing of what sounded like a spider. She was glad that she was above the ground high enough to avoid confrontation, seeing as she wasn't very good at fighting yet. She sat up, briefly scanning the surrounding area, only to see that she was still alone. Right before she laid back down, however, a small pebble came flying through the hair and bounced painfully off of her cheek. She let out a startled cry, rubbing the small welt as tears formed in her eyes. 

"Psst!"

Looking in both the direction that the rock came from and the sound, she squinted in the dark to try and make out whatever was trying to get her attention. Her eyes sensed movement, and upon closer inspection, she picked up the sound of rattling bones along with the distinct image of a skull. It didn't aim its arrows at her as if it were aggressive, so she leaned over the side of the roof and coaxed the skeleton over.

"What're you doing out here?" She asked. She saw the distinct orange wool coat of her friend, assuring her safety. "Ya know how Steve likes a warning before you come over."

"The others finally let me out! 'Was so _boring_ , cooped up in the cave. Old Roody Rattle Bones said my femur was good enough to use again, so I figured I'd find you on my first night back out."  
[Y/N] leaped down from the roof, guiding herself over to the small patch of grass where he stood. They both ended up by the front door of her and Steve's shack, lying down on the grass. "I was scared you wouldn't be able to find us."  
"There's 'lotta talk when you humans move around, so I don't gotta worry about losing you completely. You drive the Queen Mother crazy, you know." 

From what she understood about the Skeleton social and cultural systems, there was a main skeleton dubbed the Queen Mother, who had all sorts of cool powers, along with the ability to raise the dead. There was a major difference between skeletons and zombies, though - skeletons were always long gone and buried before they're brought back to life, and usually don't hunger for a source of food like zombies do. All skeletons communicated mainly through clacks of bones smacking together, but [Y/N]'s friend was one of the few mobs who learned how to speak in human tongue. Most skeletons have the knowledge buried deep in their memories from when they were alive, but after centuries of being dead, it was rare that they ventured out to speak to humans at all. Many mobs looked down on the human race, and found it unnecessary to learn how to speak with them in the first place. 

"Grovem?" 

Steve's entrance spooked the both of them. The skeleton stood, shaking Steve's hand before offering him a quick hello.  
"Steve! Long time, no see. I cracked my femur a few weeks back; wasn't allowed to leave my cave. It was an awful pain, so boring were the -"  
"Good to see you too, Grovem." 

Grovem had a habit of speaking too much, too fast. [Y/N], being a child and easily amused by his antics, was the only one who really listened to the entirety of his rants. Steve, impatient as he always was, never lasted long. 

"Mind if we go out on some midnight adventures, old man?" Grovem popped his head through the open door to the shelter Steve had entered. "It's a helluva good night."  
Steve looked at him pointedly, "Alright. But make sure she doesn't get hurt! I'll crack your femur all over again."  
"Jeez," Grovem uttered to the girl. "What's his problem?"  
"I ate some cocoa beans, got real sick. We had to go see a witch, he wasn't very happy with me." [Y/N] said as they wandered in a random direction. "What're we gonna do?"  
"Wanna tip some cows?"  
"Yeah!"


	2. Caution: Elevator Out of Order

On the anniversary of her tenth year, Steve surprised [Y/N] with the materials needed to complete her first diamond sword, something she had been working on for a few weeks. She was thankful that she no longer needed to spend hours mining the deepest parts of the nearby caves for the essential minerals, an activity which often left her passed out early in the night and sleeping in late the next day. Steve admired her from his place at the workbench as she stood over a smelter, soot and charcoal mixed with sweat staining her clothes and skin. She noticed him watching her, and gave him a confused glance.

"What is it?"  
"Nothing," Steve grinned. "Just thinking about how you're gonna be the best adventuress to follow in my footsteps."  
"Thanks!" She shot him a wide smile, which revealed one of her last and missing baby teeth that had been unceremoniously knocked out during a run-in with a very angry spider. Her gaze drifted from him over to the small window on the front door of their shelter. In the darkness of the night, an even darker figure appeared outside. He noticed this and hastily removed himself from the hut, speaking lowly with somebody outside. 

[Y/N] tried to focus on the conversation outside, but over the clanging of her hammer against the red-hot diamond of her unfinished word, it was hard to make out anything that was being said. She supposed she could talk to Grovem about it later, since he most likely knew more about outside news than she did. When Steve returned, he had a look on his face that suggested he was deep in thought.  
"So what was that about?" [Y/N] broke the silence, hoping to gain some insight.  
He seemed startled when her voice echoed against the wooden walls. "Oh, nothing you need to worry about, Oak log. Just some villagers causing a ruckus."

She frowned at this, but didn't say anything else. Usually, when villagers caused any sort of havoc, he was quick to complain about each and every one of them. Steve never kept secrets from her, an his lack of an explanation settled itself in a nook somewhere in the back of her mind. Soon enough, just as she emerged her finished sword into a bucket of water with a _hissss_ , Grovem flung open the door, singing songs she didn't know the words to, while wishing her something called a "happy birthday". He often made references to ancient cultures long gone, but she rarely ever questioned them. 

Steve gave her a brief congratulations on her new sword, kissed her forehead, and wished her safety before she ran into the night with Grovem. Her new weapon twinkled in the moonlight and she bounced about excitedly, eager to find an enemy to test it out on. 

While walking in silence, [Y/N] turned to Grovem and asked, "Hey, do you know of anything happening?"  
"What?" Came his confused response. "Like, birds pooping and such? A lot of things are happening."  
"No, I mean, something, like, important, maybe? Someone came up to the door an hour or two ago. Steve went outside and talked to them, but when he came in he wouldn't tell me anything."  
Grovem rubbed the bone of his chin in thought. The two of them stopped walking. "Well, the only thing I can think of are the Ender Wars, but that's been going on for a while now."  
"What're those? I've never heard of that before," [Y/N] said, eyes wide. She sat down on the grass and Grovem followed suit.  
"That's been going on since you were like, five years old. Oh - well, you were super young, so it's not weird that you haven't been paying attention." He started. He laid back on the grass and crossed his arms behind his head. [Y/N] copied him, staring up at the stars and treetops as she waited for his explanation. "It started when the Ender Dragon hatched - you know, from the new egg Steve saved for them? Apparently, the new dragon had been speaking of alliances between species. Some other mobs like Zombies, and the ones from the Nether especially, started planning to overthrow him and bring the Enders into the Nether for thinking of doing something they thought was so stupid. Obviously, the Enders didn't want that, and there's been attacks from both sides ever since." 

[Y/N] thought for a moment. She never really understood adult stuff. She wondered if Grovem was an adult, but even if he wasn't, she supposed it didn't matter since he's been undead for so long. "Why do mobs hate humans so much, anyways? They always attack us first! Not you, but others."  
"Back when the pre-era war started, us humanoids were originally mutated humans that were outcasts from society. Regular humans didn't treat us very well, so when we had enough, there was a huge war with lots of explosions and stuff. It nearly killed all of humanity." He explained, "Mobs, too. We all had to start from scratch."

"Explosions? Like TnT? That stuff isn't very dangerous, unless you're super close to it." [Y/N] cocked an eyebrow. She remembered when she and Steve had been trying to make an entrance into a sealed-off cave and tunnel system, but not even their explosives did a very good job.  
"TnT, but, like, a billion times stronger."  
"Oh."

They laid like that for a while, watching the sky. She imagined what life was like before the pre-era war; how many more people were there? What did they use those temples for? Whenever she looted them, she'd sometimes find old things left behind. Some things looked like books, but with beautiful women and handsome men on the worn-out pages that still remained. They talked of weird potions that were supposed to make you smell good, and strange things that looked like huge wagons with four wheels. As she was imagining the possibilities of the past, purple flowers and violet dust began to float gently through the air. Grovem sat straight up, looking for the source of it. 

"Those are from an Ender, aren't they?" [Y/N] whispered. She knew Enders were very startled creatures, and she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself. "Where is it?"  
"I don't know," Grovem replied, looking around. Suddenly, he pointed to a spot nearby some trees where the petals seemed to accumulate. "Over there, I think." 

The two stood up slowly, carefully making their way over to the area where the speculated Ender may be. She gripped the handle of her sword tightly; she had never directly spoken to an Ender before, and she knew they didn't like direct eye contact, so she was very nervous. The closer they came to a cluster of trees, the more they could hear quiet, light chirping. They rounded a large trunk before coming face-to-face with bright, purple eyes. [Y/N] screamed, not expecting the immediate close contact. The Ender jerked, teleporting frantically from side to side, as if to dodge an attack. Grovem was shouting. 

"Calm down! Calm down!" He raised his hands to show defeat. "Nobody's hurt here!" 

[Y/N] quieted and composed herself quickly, turning to look completely at the Ender that was more or less her size. She blinked in confusion. "Why's it so..small?"  
"Probably not full-grown. Look at it, you can still see the obsidian skin." Grovem pointed to it, proving his point. 

Endermen, once fully grown, looked very similar to regular humans - their only physical difference was their extra height, glowing eyes, and the patches of obsidian that naturally formed on their skin. Most times, it was on their shoulders, but as babies they're mostly covered in it. It slowly sheds with time. 

"Huh." She harrumphed, "So you're a kid, too."

It chirped back at her. 

"Well, you don't seem so bad. You can come play with us, if you want. I'm [Y/N], that's Grovem. Where're your parents?" She spoke gently. She outstretched a hand as a greeting, the the Ender looked back at her blankly.  
"Uh, doll, Enders don't really have parents." Grovem told her, to which she widened her eyes in surprise.  
"Oh! Okay. So you're just a wandering Ender. That's cool. I don't have parents either. I mean, I have Steve, but -"

"Grrimp." Was the Ender's only response. It didn't seem very interested in either of the two, but they found that when they slowly walked away, it followed.  
"So what do Enders do for fun? I know you can't swim." [Y/N] fiddled with her sword in interest. "Oh! Wanna slay some zombies?"  
" _Geurp_." It chirped again. She wasn't very sure as to what that meant, but she figured that if it wanted to come, then it would.  
"If only it would speak English," Grovem grumbled. He wasn't very good at speaking the universal language the mob had picked up - most of his cave dwelling spoke the human language as well. 

His response was met with a dry patch of dirt, which whalloped into the back of his skull.

/

 

"Just - Just come across, slowly, like this," Grovem balanced himself on the thin bridge of cobblestone he and [Y/N] had constructed across the river. "One foot in front of the other, see?"

The Ender stared back at them from the other side of the stream, clearly having no plans of placing itself in immediate danger. [Y/N] sighed dejectedly. There was an old, unexplored mine shaft just up ahead, and having an Ender would prove itself useful for teleporting inside locked rooms and allowing entry, but none of them could have any fun if the thing wouldn't cross the stream. She was running low on cobblestone, and she was sure gravel would just fall apart in the flowing water. Making a bigger bridge wasn't a viable option.  
"Can't you just teleport across?" She asked from her side of the river, loud enough so that she could be heard over the roaring stream. 

It vanished briefly, only to reappear in the middle of the make-shift bridge. It shrieked loudly in fear before teleporting back to its original spot on the other side of the bank. It tried again, a little closer to them, but ultimately failed a second time and let itself stand idly on the opposite side of them. It seemed that the Ender wasn't fully grown, and thus not completely in control of its abilities. [Y/N] groaned and balanced herself on the bridge, making her way over to it. Once close enough, she held out her hand.  
"Since you're such a baby," She rolled her eyes, "Hold my hand. I'll guide you across."

The Ender seemed to look at her with irritation, but nonetheless, it placed an obsidian-shaped hand in hers. She noted how heavy it felt, and how large it was compared to her own. She could see fleshy fingertips beginning to poke out from inside the rock, indicating the Ender's growth and shedding. 

Slowly, she walked backwards across the bridge, something she concluded was difficult, considering how narrow it was. The more they progressed towards the middle, the more the Ender seemed to hesitate. She could feel its skin become airy at some points, as if it was going to float away. This was probably a sign that it briefly considered teleporting back, but [Y/N]'s firm grip on its hand kept it grounded to its spot on the cobblestone. One foot after the other, they slowly made their way across, until the two of them were on the other side of the stream with Grovem.  
"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" The skeleton clapped a bony hand on the Ender's back. It jumped slightly, most likely not used to sudden contact.  
"Glurpep." It grumbled, "Gleurpuwp."

The Ender continued to make a series of chirping noises, all of them varying in frequency and sound. [Y/N] and Grovem stared at it, clearly confused, while Grovem tried to pick up some words he may have known. When he drew a blank, he sighed.  
"Look, pal, we can't understand you. Can you say 'apple'?"  
"Glurple," The Ender chirped back at him. It jumped. "Glurpples."  
"No, drop the g. _Apple. Aaaa,_ the a. Emphasize the a."  
"Gggg..gggaple."  
"Nevermind." Grovem snipped. "Let's just get to this mineshaft."

 

Eventually, after rummaging through bushes and low-hanging tree branches, [Y/N] looked up from her map with an _Ah-ha!_ , scanning the immediate area and digging through piles of debris on the ground. Her knuckles hit hard stone, so she whipped the branches and loose leaves away from their resting place, revealing an old, stone door that led further into the ground. With some heavy lifting, she eventually pried it open, to proudly reveal stairs which descended into a dark passage.  
"Spooky," Grovem clipped. "Nice." 

The Ender's eyes provided much-needed light in the darkness of the shaft so that [Y/N] could find her flint and steel. When the torch lit, the darkness melted away to reveal cobwebs and etching in the wall, along with old papers and what looked like images of people doing various things. She tried to read what was on the papers, but she wasn't very good at reading yet(books were hard to make, and the richer villages had libraries only accessible to those they deemed worthy), and some words she just didn't recognize in the slightest. She did understand that something called an elevator was not to carry more than six people, and that a lot of heat exceeding four-hundred degrees was dangerous(she had no idea that you could measure heat). She hoped her torch wouldn't do any major damage. 

After what could have been centuries of abandonment, the mine shaft smelled of dust, moist air, and the crisp dirt that made up the majority of the interior walls, ceiling, and floor. The entrance seemed relatively barren, so [Y/N] guided herself in the limited light by allowing her palms to slide along the walls of the looming hallway. Just as they rounded a corner, the tips of her fingers jammed into something hard and sturdy. She yelped at the impact on her nail.  
"Ow!" Her fingers explored the object imbedded in the wall. They clasped onto what seemed to be a smaller portion of it that jutted out into the air. "What the -"

[Y/N] accidentally flicked her hand upwards, pulling up what then felt like a tiny switch, and partially blinded the three of them when a sudden white, burning light disturbed the darkness of the shaft and illuminated the area around them. Both she and Grovem gasped, while the Ender chirped in surprise, as they squinted at what seemed to be light withheld in small, narrow pipes connected to the ceiling. 

"The lights still work! How?!" 

She glanced over at Grovem, who seemed both delighted and fascinated at the spectacle. "The lights?" She asked. "What _are_ these? That's not fire."  
"No, my friend!" He shouted enthusiastically, bouncing around their portion of the dirt hall. "This is an ancient, well-preserved specimen of how the humans used to use electricity!"  
"Like..lightning?" [Y/N] peered at the lights that seemed to create their own path in the underground tunnels. "How do you use that?"  
"Humans once mastered electricity to power things like man-made lights, electronics, and other stuff," he explained. "Using wires. Copper wires."

The trio followed the winding tunnels until they came to what seemed to be a door. It looked like steel, but it was colored red. [Y/N] had never heard of dying steel. Grovem called it paint, which was essentially dye that was stronger, and used for items that weren't made of wool. She eyed the peeling layers of it, revealing rust underneath. Her skeleton friend pried open the doors, which lead to a tiny room with a lever.

"An elevator. If the electricity works.. Let's see. Hmm.." Grovem pondered. His bony fingers grasped the lever and pulled, only to fly backwards and hit his skull on a steel bar that held the doors together. One of his ribs dislodged and he grumbled. While he fussed with his loose bones, [Y/N] firmly gripped the lever, yanking it towards her as hard as she could so that the steel rod creaked and moved in her direction. It held fast in its new position, and while the metal box they stood in echoed with the groaning of the old metalwork, nothing else happened. "Well, it seems that our adventure's come to an end, folks. Time to abandon ship, off we go. Now -" 

The metal box shook violently. [Y/N] lost her balance and fell hard on her rear. The Ender, as quiet as he was, began to chirp anxiously. They all watched as the steel doors began to shut, and the ground of the tunnel they were just in began to move upward. [Y/N] looked around frantically, unsure of what to expect. She was just beginning to stand when Grovem began to utter nervously.  
"We're going a bit fast, aren't we? I remember elevators used to move at a bit more of a..relaxed pace. Oh - oh, it seems we're speeding up."  
"Grovem!" [Y/N] yelled, "What do we do?! What do -"

Soon they were moving at incredibly high speeds. The outer steel grated against dirt and rock, spitting out sparks in their direction. [Y/N] ducked down to her knees and placed her hands over her head, not sure of what else to do, while Grovem fearfully gripped the lever that seemed to be stuck permanently in its current position. The Ender, rapidly teleporting from side to side, as if trying to escape, let out a shrill screech that challenged that of the loud shrieking that the steel box emitted as it descended. The farther down it went, the bumpier it got, and so the party inside was jostled from side to side, bouncing off of the walls. 

Suddenly, the old elevator jerked to a halt. Both Grovem and [Y/N] were careened into the ceiling, then thrown back onto the floor, while the Ender teleported again just in time to save itself any major damage. Dust and dirt clouded around them, and the steel doors snapped open, as if they had been torn from one another by some unseen force. The world turned blurry in [Y/N]'s eyes, and Grovem's pained chattering echoed in her ears before she blacked out completely. 

 

/

 

 

"N-no! Not like that, you stupid rock! Like a puzzle piece, it should just slide right back on! NO! Look at the hole, you moron!" 

Grovem angrily clacked his jaw at the Ender, who just so happened to be holding his detached head, while his separate body was trying to piece itself back together. The Ender seemed to fail miserably at putting his arms back on his torso. Enders had a knack and reputation for being ridiculously clever, so Grovem wondered if it was truly paying attention to him at all. It kept shifting its gaze to [Y/N]'s outstretched body, lying halfway out of the elevator, with what seemed to be a nasty cut on her forehead.  
"Yes, I know she's injured!" He snapped at the Ender. "Which is why you need to _put me back together_! Neither one of us is useful if you have to end up carrying two people at once!"  
_Shtink!_

Grovem took a moment to process what had just happened. He quickly realized that the Ender placed his head back on his body, but left his arms still a way's away from him, before turning its attention fully onto [Y/N]. It hoisted her up onto its back, holding one of her thighs while keeping her arm over its shoulder. She slumped onto its back, nearly sliding off a few times, before it righted itself and was able to stand comfortably without [Y/N] falling. Grovem huffed, still unable to do much else than stand and make use of his legs. He tried to bend down and take his arms into his mouth, but both of the bones at the same time wouldn't fit sideways into his jaw, so he opted to leave them behind and face Old Roody Rattle Bones's angry clattering when they all arrived home.  
"The nerve of you," Grovem grumbled. "Now neither you nor me can use our hands. Humph."

"You are just as useful with that mouth of yours."  
"Why, you!" He cried. "Oh, if I had my arms, I'd whallop you in the back of the - wait, you just spoke." 

The Ender paid him no mind then, opting to turn and make its way down the clear path of the tunnel. Grovem stood for a moment, speechless, watching the black form of the receding mob. Its voice was low, indicating that its gender was male(Enders are very difficult to sex early in life, most of the time the only way to know for sure, without waiting until the Ender reached adulthood, was to be part of the species themselves), and it held that air of formality most Enders picked up from old human customs. Albeit, the Ender's voice still showed quite obviously that it hadn't fully matured, but it was clear enough to understand that _it_ was, in fact, a "he".

It wasn't until they began to see rails and rail carts that the Ender put [Y/N] down. He placed her in a cart and pushed her forward, while his eyes cast a purple glow in the dark mine. It seemed that the electricity didn't reach as far down as they had been. Grovem chose to inspect the area, hoping to find some materials to bring home to Steve. _We may have almost killed ourselves, but it was worth it! See?_

"Ow, my head." [Y/N] groaned suddenly. Her voices bounces off of the old dirt walls and wooden and steel structures. The two of them jumped before crowding around her. "What happened?"

"[Y/N], you are sure as hell lucky to be alive! Boy, did you take a tumble." Grovem cackled. "When the elevator finally stopped, it basically threw you right out."  
"Where're your arms?" She asked. "Is my diamond sword okay?"  
"Well," Grovem turned his head to graze upon the Ender angrily. "If somebody had helped me put myself back together, instead of throwing sassy comments, then my arms would be right as rain."  
"Okay, cool." Her hands explored the area on and around her belt, letting out a breath of relief when she felt the sharpened edge of her sword. "Wait, sassy comments?"  
"The oaf could speak!"  
"I can speak," the Ender growled.  
"You can speak!" [Y/N] cried. "What's your name? Are you a boy? What were you doing alone when we found you? How old are you? Do you know Steve?"

The Ender backed away only slightly, unused to such a bubbly voice being direct towards him. Enders, like witches, weren't used to speaking outside of short phrases in their own language. Human words felt foreign on his tongue, and he hadn't used the certain strength needed to form words with his voice in a very, very long time. "Enders do not have _names_. Yes, I am male. I am thirteen summers. I _have_ heard of a human male who calls himself Steve, who freed our people from our previous dictator." 

"I grant you the name Blackey." [Y/N] grinned widely. "Blackey Black Smith."  
Grovem cringed. "That, my friend, is a terrible name."  
"Aw, then what do you think his name should be?" She quipped back at him. Then, she smiled evilly, "Two-Arms? I like that one."  
"I propose," The skeleton jeered back at her, "a name with _class_. Like Michael, for example."

The two of them bickered back and forth, much to the Ender's disinterest. He himself had never really given a name any thought; rarely had he ever interacted with humans before, even when he left the End, and so whatever the other two decided to call him didn't matter very much. He could hear their footsteps as they followed him through the mine shaft, still arguing, when a hefty weight flew into his side and squished him against the dirt walls. A strained groan was enough to tell him that they had run into a zombie. 

"I've got this!" Hooted [Y/N]. She sheathed her new sword and raised it high above her head, her war cry drawing the zombie's attention away from him. Grovem spied a spider creeping up on her, and without the use of his arms for his own bow and arrows, he kicked the oversized insect away from her, crushing its body underneath the weight of his leather boot. "Take this!"

The zombie's cloudy, green eyes squinted at her, and it growled, revealing rotting teeth and diseased gums. It pawed the air in her direction, sharp nails hoping to break skin and spread infection. The diamond sword cut easily through its hands, the sharp edge slicing the bone clean. Old, foul-smelling blood spewed in every direction, splattering green gunk and other decaying flesh onto the ground. "Kaboom!" She cried, taking the zombie's moment of distraction and slicing off the head before stepping back and watching the now completely dead body slump to the dirt at their feet. The Ender had noticed [Y/N]'s dirtied appearance now, dirt-dusted cheeks set with sweat, dried blood on her forehead like warpaint, and zombie funk on the front of her shirt and her bare toes(where were her shoes? Weren't humans delicate? Didn't their gentle feet require footwear to prevent injury?) 

"Where is your footwear?" He asked her. She had bent over to rummage through possible loot: spider webs, spider poison, rotting meat, and a gem.  
[Y/N] looked up at him from over her shoulder, "Oh, I don't like wearing shoes. It feels harder to run when I wear them, like they weigh me down, you know?"

He didn't respond. They proceeded through the mine shaft, Grovem both creating and leading most of the conversation, and slaying any enemy they encountered. They found six chests, each with its own flurry of loot, and so the three of them let each other randomly pick two to rummage through. He ended up with bread, arrows, and a gold sword, none of which served useful to him, so he gave the bread to [Y/N] and arrows and gold sword to Grovem in compensation for not helping him retrieve his arms. The chests seemed to be the final destination in the mine, as they found a steel door with a platelet on the side, which ultimately led to stairs ascending upward. They followed the steps, and [Y/N]'s complaining of her ears popping indicated they were finally coming close to the surface, to which they saw pillars of light gleaming through the frame of a trap door. 

"It's daylight outside," Grovem groaned. "Thank goodness I brought my parasol." 

Once in the morning sun, the Ender peered in the light. The sun didn't hurt, but his species was always so used to the darkness, and so too much light during the daytime dulled his senses tremendously. He followed the human and the skeleton, half-blind, using Grovem's pink umbrella as a guide. 

After what seemed to be hours of walking, [Y/N] stopped, peered angrily down at her map, and then looked up at the two boys guiltily. "I think we're lost."


End file.
